Faithful Heart (13 page)

Yates left the door open for light and found Jerrod sitting on an old wooden box beneath the loft. As the preacher drew near,
Jerrod stood and waited for him to speak.

“Can we talk?” Yates asked.

“It’s about what Duane and Web and their wives told you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. That’s why I came out here when you drove up.”

“Jerrod, you need to talk about it. You need to get help before someone gets seriously hurt. Dottie told Louella and me the whole story. It’s not your fault that you suffered combat fatigue in the War. For the sake of your family, Jerrod, let alone for your own sake, you need to place yourself under professional care. I know Dr. Carroll personally. He’s the best in his field, and he’s a fine, dedicated Christian. I know he can help you. How about if I take you to him?”

Jerrod stiffened, shaking his head. “No. First thing he’ll do is lock me up in that asylum. I’m not goin’ to any asylum, Pastor.”

“Jerrod, you don’t know that’s what he would do. All I’m asking is that we go and have a talk with him. You owe it to the Lord, too. You can’t serve Him like you should with this problem hanging over you. Dottie tells me it’s getting worse. She loves you. She only wants you to get better.”

“No,” Jerrod growled, his eyes beginning to widen. “Dottie and I are gonna work it out with the Lord’s help.”

“The Lord gave us doctors, Jerrod. He uses doctors to help people. You need help.”

“I’m not goin’ to that doctor! He’ll lock me up! Get outta here, preacher! I’m tellin’ you—go!”

“Calm down, Jerrod,” Yates said, moving closer. “You’ve got to consider your wife and children. I saw what you did to James
and Dottie. Big and strong as your are, you could kill one of them. Is that what you want?” Yates took another step toward him, reaching out and saying, “Take my hand, Jerrod. Just take my hand. Let me help you.”

Jerrod lunged at the preacher and swung a fist at his jaw. Howard Yates had been in hand-to-hand combat in the Civil War and was able to dodge the fist. He did not try to strike back, but he stepped close and said, “Calm yourself, Jerrod. You need help, and I’m going to see that you get it.”

Jerrod growled and threw himself at the smaller man. They collided, and both went down. Jerrod leaped on him like a madman, swinging both fists at the preacher’s head and face. Yates gamely fought back, but Jerrod’s size and strength overwhelmed him. Finally, Yates managed to roll away from Jerrod and made a dash for the open door. Jerrod roared like a bear and came after him.

Dottie Harper dashed into the barn just then and screamed, “No, Jerrod!” She placed herself between the preacher and her wild-eyed husband. “Leave him alone! He’s your pastor!”

Jerrod didn’t even hesitate. He struck Dottie on the jaw with his fist, and she went down hard. He looked down at her for a brief moment, then wailed and ran out the door. He passed Louella Yates, who stood just outside, frozen with fear. Louella watched him run between the chicken shed and the privy and into the nearest field.

Louella hurried inside and found her husband kneeling beside Dottie, who remained unconscious. The preacher carried Dottie into the house and laid her on the couch in the parlor. James and Molly Kate stood by in tears while Louella worked at reviving their mother. Yates was in the kitchen cleaning himself up and trying to stop his cuts from bleeding.

Dottie came to after a few moments. Her children embraced
her when she sat up and told them she was all right. The pastor entered the room, dabbing at his face with a wet towel.

“I’m sorry, Pastor,” Dottie said. “When Jerrod’s spell wears off, he’ll weep and say how sorry he is for what he did to you.”

“Dottie, Jerrod’s got to be put where he cannot harm any-one … especially you and these children. I’m going to send Louella for Sheriff Donner right now. I’ll stay with you and the children in case Jerrod comes back right away.”

“Are you going to press charges against him, Pastor?”

“No. Of course not. But he must be locked up or he’s going to hurt someone seriously, maybe even kill them.”

Louella hurried to the Yates carriage and drove away. Dottie was still a little dizzy, but she sat the preacher down and put iodine on his cuts and salve on his bruises.

While her children clung to her, Dottie asked Yates why God would allow a Christian family to suffer as the Harpers had.

“And why would He allow a Christian man to become the victim of something as awful as combat fatigue?”

“I don’t have a ready-made answer for you, Dottie. But I can say, and we can see from the Bible, that just because people are Christians doesn’t exempt them from tragedies and heartaches. The Lord uses these things to draw us closer to Him. Just think of Paul’s thorn in the flesh, of Job’s loss of property, family members, and health, of David’s persecution by Saul, of John’s banishment to Patmos—all these trials were used by God for His own special purposes. And they were made better servants of the Lord because of it.”

Dottie was thanking the preacher for helping her to understand when heavy boots were heard on the front porch, and Jerrod entered the parlor. He was surprised to see the preacher,
since the carriage was gone. Both children clung hard to their mother as Howard Yates rose to his feet and braced himself for another onslaught.

Jerrod looked at Yates, then at his cringing family, then back at Yates. Tears flooded his eyes and he moved toward the preacher sobbing, “Pastor, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I’m so sorry—please forgive me!”

Before Yates could make any kind of reply, Jerrod turned toward the love seat where Dottie sat with her children. The preacher stepped up beside him, ready to intervene if the big man showed any sign of aggression.

Face wet with tears, Jerrod sobbed, “Dottie, I’m sorry I hit you! How could I have hit you? Please forgive me!”

Dottie sat with an arm around each child, looked up at him, and said, “Jerrod, this cannot go on. We can’t handle it ourselves. I see that now. Surely you must see it, too. You’ve got to have professional help. You must go to Dr. Carroll.”

“But I—”

“You did a horrible thing, Jerrod! You battered your own pastor. Look at his face!”

Jerrod turned and set searching eyes on the preacher. He turned back to Dottie and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Being sorry’s not enough, Jerrod. I know you’re sorry, but the damage is done. You’ve got to get help.”

Jerrod sleeved away tears from his cheeks and started to say something else when he heard the sound of a carriage and horses pulling up in front of the house. He headed to the door to see who it was. He recognized Louella in the carriage, but his attention was drawn to the two riders on horseback. Sheriff Max Donner and Deputy Myron Hall were soon out of their saddles
and headed for the porch.

Jerrod went rigid, clenching his fists. Howard Yates laid a hand on his shoulder and said in a subdued voice, “Take it easy, Jerrod. They’re here because it’s necessary.”

Sheriff Donner preceded his deputy to the door, stepped in without being invited, and gave Jerrod a hard look. “Jerrod Harper, I’m placing you under arrest for assault and battery. Mrs. Yates told me what you did to her husband, and I can see the evidence with my own eyes.”

“Is Reverend Yates pressin’ charges?” Jerrod asked.

“I don’t know if he’ll press charges or not, Jerrod,” Donner replied, “but right now we’re takin’ you to jail for beatin’ up on him. We’ll see later about charges.”

“Sheriff, I’m not goin’ to jail. I told the man I’m sorry, and I know he’ll forgive me.” He looked at Yates. “Right, Pastor?”

“Jerrod, it doesn’t make any difference whether he forgives you or not,” Donner said. “You’ve proven yourself to be a menace to society, and you’re going behind bars until I say different. I warned you about this before.”

Dottie drew up beside her husband, touched his arm, and said, “I don’t like to see you go to jail, honey, but Sheriff Donner has to take you in so you don’t hurt anyone else. We’ll get this all worked out. Help is available, and we’ll get you the best there is.”

“I’m not goin’ to jail, Dottie! You hear me? I’m not!”

Max Donner set his jaw and said, “Preacher, you take Mrs. Harper and the children to another room, will you?” As he spoke, he pulled a pair of handcuffs off the back of his belt.

Reverend Yates glanced out the door at his wife, who cautiously waited on the steps of the porch. “Dottie, let’s take James and Molly Kate and go outside,” he said.

Dottie gave her husband a fearful look and motioned for the children to come to her. “Jerrod, this is best for all of us right now. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but something has to be done so you won’t.”

Jerrod ignored Dottie as Yates led her and the children out onto the porch. His eyes were on the handcuffs in Donner’s hand. He backed away two steps and braced himself. “I’m not goin’ to jail, Sheriff,” he said.

“You can go the easy way or the hard way,” Donner said. “Choice is yours. I suggest you choose the easy way and hold out those wrists.”

Jerrod Harper’s pent-up fury exploded. He lunged at the sheriff with his fist. Donner dodged the blow, and as Jerrod set himself to throw another punch, Myron Hall moved in and brought the barrel of his revolver down hard on the back of Jerrod’s head. Jerrod went down in a heap, unconscious.

Dottie rushed in, face pinched, and knelt beside him, stroking his face. “Oh, Jerrod, I love you. It’s going to be all right, honey. You’ll see. We’ve just got to get you some help.”

Jerrod was still out as Donner and Hall draped him over the saddle of Hall’s horse, hands cuffed behind his back. When the two lawmen sat doubled up on Donner’s horse, the sheriff looked down at Dottie and said, “You’re welcome to visit him anytime, Mrs. Harper.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” she said, holding the children close to her.

“You gonna talk to Dr. Carroll?”

“Yes. I’ll go to his office tomorrow morning, then I’ll let you know what he wants to do.”

“All right, ma’am,” Donner nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Jerrod Harper was beginning to stir as the two lawmen rode away, leading the horse that carried him. The preacher patted Dottie’s arm and said, “The Lord will work it all out for the best, Dottie. Remember Romans 8:28.”

“Yes,” she smiled through her tears.
“All
things is what it says, doesn’t it?”

R
IP
C
LAYSON’S WAGON TRAIN
traveled for three days out of Fort Bridger with the cavalry escort before the men in blue had to turn back. Five days later, the train veered off the Oregon Trail onto the California Trail, and on September 25, the jagged, towering peaks of the Sierra Nevada Range came into view.

It was now September 27, and the Sierras still seemed as far away. Clayson told those who had never traveled in mountain country that it was merely an optical illusion. In a few more days, it would seem that God had suddenly pushed the mountains their direction, and they would be climbing into the foothills.

There had been no Indian trouble since leaving Fort Bridger, for which all were thankful. They were nearing Mohave Indian country, but the Mohaves were friendly toward whites. This was good news to the weary travelers.

Night after night, John Stranger and Breanna Baylor had taken walks together, and on this night, the moon was full and countless stars twinkled in the vast heavens above.

About a half-mile from the camp, the pair found a large round rock at the edge of a bubbling stream. Breanna sat down and John stood over her, looking down into her moon-struck
face. They were in tall timber now, and the night breeze sang to them in the treetops. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howled. Its cry was long and lonely. Moments later, the cry was answered from another direction.

John smiled, looked at the surrounding forest, and said, “Sounds like boy and girl, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Breanna said. “And I think they’re going to meet somewhere out there in the moonlight.”

John’s thoughts rushed forward to the day when he and Breanna would part again. His heart went heavy. He stepped to the grassy bank of the stream and watched the moon dance on the rippling surface. Then he turned and looked again at Breanna. He let his gaze absorb the picture she made in the silver moonlight, with the deep of the forest behind her. He loved this woman more than he ever knew he could love someone.

“The Lord sure went out of His way when He made you, Breanna,” John said.

“You flatter me,” she said, smiling.

“It’s not flattery, my lady,” he responded, walking toward her. “It’s fact.”

Breanna reached for his hand, took it, and pulled him down beside her. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, then John gently folded her in his arms.

“I love you, Breanna,” he said. “There’s no way you could know how much I love you.”

Breanna laid her hand against his cheek and said, “And there’s no way
you
could know how very, very much I love
you
my darling.”

The kiss was sweet and tender, then they held each other for a long moment.